Boys and Girls: The Devil Must Die
by dionysianDaydream
Summary: Townsville is seedy as hell and needs saving. (I'll come up with something better later.)
1. Prologue: Distance

Sugar, spice, and everything nice. These were the ingredients chosen to create the perfect little girls, but Professor Utonium accidentally added an extra ingredient to the concoction – Chemical-X.

Thus the Powerpuff Girls were born, using their ultra-super powers: Bubbles, Blossom, and Buttercup, have dedicated their lives to fighting crime and the forces of evil.

...but that was only the beginning.

* * *

><p>"At least try something else, Blossom," Brick said, then bypassed her guard with a sucker punch to the side of the head, followed by a jab to the gut. "What makes you think you can win a fight just by blocking all the time?"<p>

Blossom was still reeling from the blow when he knocked her down with a powerful roundhouse kick, and pitch black blood, like oil, sprayed from her mouth.

"Tanking a few punches probably won't be enough to save the city. Just saying."

"You're getting way too much enjoyment out of this," she said, her whole body shuddering as she got back unto her feet. "Does hitting me turn you on, or are you just a sadist in general?"

She wiped some of the leaking blood off on her arm, took a deep breath, and steadied herself – bruised and battered by his repeated assaults but not beaten, the intensity of her stare was enough to let him know that, at least in her mind, this fight was far from over.

"This is nothing." Brick cracked his knuckles. "You should see how I fight when I use both of my hands."

He lunged at Blossom with a straight punch, but she saw it coming and barely dodged it.

The wide miss left an opening for for her to exploit, but Brick was too quick. He grabbed Blossom by her ponytail with his other hand and shoved her face into an upward knee kick.

Shards of Blossom's skin broke off and scattered across the small forest clearing as she fell to her knees, grasping at the gaping hole in her forehead – revealing the dark, viscous membrane underneath – from which more Chemical-X oozed uncontrollably.

Brick turned his back on the felled Powerpuff.

"Let's call it a day," he said while straightening his hat, which had been turned around slightly during the brief scuffle, but other than that he looked as though he had just returned from a leisurely stroll. "I'm getting pumped up...but if this keeps up..."

Blossom, sitting cross-legged, bowed her head low enough that she could smell the earth as it was gradually being polluted by her leaking lifeblood, beneath withered blades of grass. She embraced the tingly numbness of instant regeneration - her injuries would recover in time, although a wounded pride was another matter entirely./p

_I'm still not strong enough to save anyone...but..._

She looked to the sky, at the pink and red flashing wall of the translucent dome that was originally constructed for the sake of protecting Townsville, but now threatened to destroy it.

_I can't give up! There isn't much time left._


	2. 1: Sucker

Flash back to when the first bell rang, but Mitch Mitchelson was too busy sorting through a bowlful of exotic herbs in the shade of the bleachers by the French Peak Private school athletic field to notice, and wouldn't have cared anyway.

"So, a friend told me about this pizza place downtown," Mitch started to say as he passed the next rolled up clump to the girl sitting across from him. "He says if you ask for a Bob Marley extra crispy on the side, they'll give you a bag of weed with your pizza."

"Which one?" Buttercup asked then lit up, had her first puff, and let out a long sigh. She could think of no better way to enjoy her downtime between a brisk morning jog and first period Biology class than this.

"The Domino's with all the Jamaicans," Mitch replied, making unknown gestures with his hands. "Next to the club with the DJ who played Sandstorm unironically that one time."

"Oh yeah," she laughed and said. "That place is always too busy."

"Well...do you think it's true?"

"I don't know, man." Buttercup said, internally getting a huge kick out of how gullible Mitch could be sometimes. "Honestly, I think someone's bullshitting you."

Mitch just stared at her with an amused half-grin, while he continued to brush falling ashes off the Rumblestein band T-shirt he bought on a trip with Buttercup to one of their concerts in Germany last summer. She felt a shiver go up her spine just thinking about it, or maybe it was just the extra 'kick' of the weed that Mitch bought from a man who liked to hang around a dumpster in an alley next to the Home Economics block, claiming to have direct connections with Venezuelan growers. Whether or not that was true, his stuff sure did the trick.

"Who needs school anyway," she said, purposefully flicking away the last charred bits of her first joint unto the pair of track shoes Professor Utonium had bought for her at the start of the school year. "I've got everything I need right here."

Mitch cocked his head toward the track, at the lone figure approaching.

"You might want to check that, babe, 'cuz it looks like we've been found out."

…...

Of all the accidents that have occurred in the history of French Peak Preparatory High School's Advanced Cooking class, Bubbles Utonium was responsible for precisely three of them.

The first time, she was boiling some eggs and accidentally brushed the edge of a piece of paper towel that was recently used to dab up some spilled vegetable oil into the lit burner, and it set on fire.

Another time, she tried to scrub oil out of a pot and it must of have been due to the friction coupled with the fact that the pot was still hot that caused the paper towel she was using to spontaneously combust.

Most recently, Bubbles managed to set an entire roll of paper towel on fire after setting it inside of a preheated oven because she apparently mistook it for a log of meatloaf.

"I was talking to Jeff from the Beginner Class while I was cooking," she told her friend Kim over lunch the day after, "I guess I got a little distracted."

"Jeff from 2-D? What was he doing there?"

"Well...Mrs. Rodney wanted them to learn new things from us for the day."

Bubbles blushed and tried to hide her face behind a forkful of caesar salad.

"I was giving him cooking safety tips."

Despite all these mishaps, though, and the obvious impact they had on her grade, Bubbles was an excellent cook. Because of this her less accident prone classmates often came to her for assistance, and of course she was always willing to lend a helping hand so long as there weren't any paper towel rolls nearby.

While Buttercup and Mitch were drifting off into space that day, Bubbles was waiting by the door to the Home Economics classroom, about ten minutes early, when she heard something move among the metal trash cans that were lined up behind the tall chain link fence which bordered the school.

"Hey, girl...are you looking for some real shit?"

From the corner of her eye Bubbles saw a tall man in an oversized trench coat with sunglasses, greasy, jet black hair that fell along the sides of his face, and a dirty red bandana worn over his mouth and nose like a mask filter.

"Want some mariposa? I've got plenty here, real cheap, but only if you buy now, dollface."

Bubbles thought to ignore him until he realized she wasn't interested in what he was selling and slithered back to whatever hole he came from, but several agonizingly slow minutes went by without any sign of the teacher or her other classmates.

"A dollar an ounce for some high quality shit - that's the best deal you'll find anywhere in Townsville, guaranteed."

She heard the fence rattle when he pressed against it, letting the strong odor of his wares and his unwashed self wash over her.

"Don't be like that," the strange man persisted, growing more and more irate as Bubbles started to walk away at a brisk pace. "Just buy some, you little bitch! I need the fucking money, man! Bitch, I'm gonna die if I don't get that mo'fuckin' money!"

Walking quickly, Bubbles turned a corner and bumped into Kim running in the opposite direction.

"Was your phone turned off again? I tried messaging you like crazy!"

"I'm sorry, there was this-"

She glanced over her shoulder, but the drug dealer was not there.

"Forget about it." Kim grabbed Bubbles arms and shook her, "Listen, Buttercup is seriously effed up."

"I kind of already knew that, Kim."

"This morning Mrs. Rodney caught her and Mitch Mitchelson from Townsville High smoking weed under the bleachers, and I guess they beat up her real bad."

Bubbles gasped. "That's..." 'Unbelievable' she wanted to say, but it actually wasn't that much of a stretch to imagine Buttercup flying off her handle in any situation.

Needless to say, cooking class was canceled that day.

...

Blossom burst into the student council room and dropped a fat manilla folder with the words 'Case Load' stamped on its front cover unto the conference table. "It's him again," she said, silencing everyone.

"He's changed his base of operations again it seems," Blossom went on, removing a stack of student complaint forms from the folder and holding it up in one hand for all to see. "Just in case any of you missed it, there is a drug dealer operating on our campus, people, and if he's still around after three months he's probably making a killing."

At the head of the table, the student council president yawned loudly.

"Madam president," Blossom said venomously. "

Princess Morbucks leaned forward in her chair and rested her head on one palm propped up by the elbow, smiling impishly.

"Haven't we already discussed this matter, Blossom?"

"Yes, but still I feel like we aren't treating this case with the level of seriousness it demands."

Princess rolled her eyes. "Might I remind you, this kind of thing doesn't fall under student council jurisdiction. This is a police matter."

She shot Blossom a castrating glare.

"But, if you ask me, anyone stupid enough to get hooked on drugs deserves to suffer the consequences."

The other council members all looked at Blossom with varied expressions. News that one of her sisters had been caught smoking weed with a boy from the public school that morning had already spread, and they were all interested to see if the notorious 'Ice Princess' of the student council would thaw from the blatant jab.

Blossom took a deep breath.

"If that's how you really feel," she said after a while, then turned and started heading for the door. "It's no wonder things never get done around here."

Princess looked amused - still on a euphoric high from the thrill of causing Blossom to lose her temper - and Blossom was aware, but she had more important issues to deal with than keeping Princess's ego at a manageable level.

"What do you intend to do now, Blossom?"

The oldest Utonium girl stopped with one foot out in the hallway. She was already cycling through Buttercup's frequent haunts in her mind, whilst simultaneously running through a mental list of all the pair's known acquaintances.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this before things grow out of control," she said, slamming the door behind her.


	3. 2: Pale Shelter

Five years ago, a new solution to Townsville's giant monster problem was found in the form of a massive, semitransparent geometric dome built over the city, officially dubbed 'The Dream Dome' by Professor Utonium because it was based on his original "photon barrier" design.

Basically, it strips away all Chemical-X related properties from any man, machine, or rampaging monster that tries to pass through it. For the monsters specifically, this would invariably result in their death.

The girls were twelve years old when he called them to his lab to make a special announcement.

"The photon barrier means a lot of things to the city of Townsville...but I didn't invent it for their sake," he said, wrapping his arms around his three perfect little girls.

Tears were streaming down his face when the line he had rehearsed in his head at least a dozen times could finally be spoken.

_I did it to so you girls could wouldn't have to fight anymore._

The Professor's words echoed as she waddled away from the Club Wire Club bar counter in a drunken haze, numb to the hands of opportunistic men and lesbians in their early to mid twenties groping her from all sides.

"This girl is, like, so totally blitzed right now," she bragged before taking another drink, spilling some unto her small chest poking out of her fully unbuttoned school blazer. "I think I need an adult."

Her voice was drowned out by the relentless discharge of repetitive techno beats being repeatedly ejaculating from the floors and walls in measured bursts, that further emptied her of everything but teenage angst, alcohol, and raw adrenaline.

_But this will be our little secret, okay?_

"Come on daddy, let's do something fun!"

After hitting a few places since Mitch slugged one of the Home Ec teachers, he was at that state where he felt buzzed and confident to sneak off and try other pursuits. This time he ditched her for a couple of blonde college girls sipping margaritas at the bar, under the guise of a painfully wealthy real estate agent.

A young man in a gray beanie hat and tan jacket with the sleeves torn off was leaning against a wall with his hands in his pockets, wondering with secret amusement whether the club bouncers even checked IDs anymore as the jailbait brunette stumbled about.

Butch had seen the girl around the club before, and could swear she looked like Buttercup, but that wasn't enough of a reason to get involved...right?

* * *

><p>Back at the Utonium household, Bubbles was painting her toenails while tuning in to Zero Dead Hits, Townsville radio's most prominent indy rock station.<p>

"That was a song from Punchbaby's new album Shank of Love," the radio DJ said as the last song was coming to its end. "They're this new up and comer band from that part of town-"

Bubbles's hand slipped, resulting in a stripe of blue polish across her foot.

"Aw, nuts," she murmured, and was reaching for the bottle of nail polish remover when she thought she heard the sound of footsteps.

"Blossom?" No response. "Is that you? Dinner's on the stove..."

The footsteps were too drawn out and heavy to belong to one of her sisters, unless it was from Buttercup stomping up the stairs to her room after another argument with Blossom.

Bubbles sighed and dearly hoped that wouldn't be the case, then peered out into the dark hallway.

"Don't try to scare me, Buttercup!"

Using the light of her cell phone as a guide - it escaped her mind to simply turn on the lights - she went downstairs into the living room where the TV was inexplicably turned on.

"I guess I forgot to turn it off."

She slipped unto the sofa and stared at the flickering screen, trying to stay calm, even though it was as if a hurricane had torn through the place: old science journals and magazines were thrown off shelves, flower vases and lamps toppled, end tables turned over with their useless contents spilled unto the floor, but the culprit was nowhere to be seen.

Bubbles picked up a fallen photograph of the Powerpuffs and the Professor.

The Utonium household desperately lacked the stability he once provided: Blossom became more distant in her attempts to fill the void, Buttercup was more rebellious than ever, and Bubbles...just didn't smile like she used to. She spent a lot more time alone, lost in hobbies and her own thoughts about what she viewed as a hopeless situation more and more each day.

Bubbles bowed her head and cried as a cool wind blew into the room through the broken pane of the glass sliding door.

The kitchen light flicked on, thus nearly giving her a heart attack.

It was only Blossom.

"You scared the bajeebers out of me! But...where's Buttercup?"

"I wish I knew," she said, and didn't even seem to notice the mess in the living room when she passed by, dragging her feet on the way to the stairs. "No one's seen her since what happened at school, and she wasn't at any of the places I checked."

"What are you saying?"

Blossom shook her head. "Buttercup is just...gone."


	4. 3: Drawn to the Sea

_Sugar, spice, and everything nice. These ingredients were chosen to create the perfect little girls, but Professor Utonium accidentally added an extra ingredient to the concoction: Chemical-X._

_Thus, the Powerpuff Girls were born! Using their ultra-super powers: Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup have dedicated their lives to protecting the City of Townsville from the abominations of Monster Island!_

"What a load of shit," Brick grumbled, turning away from the plaque honoring the Powerpuff Girls in Townsville Central City Garden with a look of disgust.

It was two days after the incident at the bar with Buttercup, and Brick ordinarily wouldn't be caught dead in such a respectable neighborhood, but a mystery contact over the phone instructed him to meet with them 'by the Powerpuff fountain' to discuss a job opportunity, so of course he was there.

Even just his take on formal wear: long red hair, trucker hats, a midriff down collared black leather jackets over a multilayered red shirt with gray sleeves, and leather pants with chains hanging out of the pockets screamed 'anti-establishment'.

After a while, a blonde young man with thin, elegant features dressed in a silk sky blue V-neck with floral patterns and a white cloth tied around his neck - similarly exotic in appearance to his brother, but feminine by comparison to the former's ruggedness - approached from a slick and less than subtle sparkly gold limousine parked on the curb after having a brief chat with the driver.

"It really burns me up, Butchie," Brick said, clenching his fist at the offending plaque. "Those girls get a statue made in their honor, a key to the city, and their own freaking TV show, while we're left to rot in the gutters."

He made a sweeping gesture at a bronze statue of the girls situated on a cement pillar rising from the center of the fountain, but Butch just shrugged.

Boomer cracked a grin. 'Maybe if you had better control over your anger' he dearly wanted to suggest, but knew that now was not a time for playing around.

"She wants to speak to you alone," he said, twirling a rose by it's stem between two of his fingers. "This could be our big break so try not to mess it up."

A flicker of anger showed in Brick's eyes, but nothing came of it. Not now at least, but certainly later.

Brick tapped on the driver's seat window, and when it scrolled down he was met by the barrel end of a pistol.

"Let me see your hand," the driver commanded.

Brick rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, bud." He took his left hand out of his pocket - the skin was scorched black and pulsating - and displayed it. "See? Nothing. Not that I would even need a weapon...moron."

The partition window slid open automatically. It was too dark in the back to see the MVP, but for the faint glimmer of light reflected off a purple visor covering her eyes and a wry smirk.

"I'm glad we could get in touch, mister...?"

Brick was about to answer when the driver abruptly turned the gun on himself, but an inky black oil instead of blood sprayed all over the windshield and leather upholstery.

"What the fuck?!"

Brick jumped back in surprise.

From the fountain, Boomer bristled and Butch looked up at the sound of the gunshot, but Brick staved them off with a few waves of his deteriorated left hand.

"Please excuse my driver," the MVP said calmly, as her driver's non-distinct tuxedoed, sunglassed form slumped then fell over sideways. "Rudeness is something I simply will not tolerate in our security models."

"Your security models? What..."

A back seat opened and from it a young girl with a bright pink bow and long, flowing orange hair emerged.

"She looks like...Blossom! What's going on?"

Wordlessly, the lookalike swung around the limo, opened the door, pulled the recently deposed driver out and tossed him aside, blackening the white cobblestones of the pretty square with his blood.

Princess Morebucks watched Brick's facial expressions change from pure shock on top of shock, to confusion, then fury at her personal servant's lack of a response, until she couldn't help but laugh.

"I can control them with my thoughts. In this one's case...completely."

Princess leaned forward to offer a cigar but he declined it with a sharp look.

She went on, unfazed.

"Quite convincing, isn't she? But more like an empty shell than the real thing."

She handed the cigar she offered Brick to the Blossom bot, who promptly started eating it.

"Still, she is nice to have around when I'm short of a driver or, say...when I get mud on my shoes and need someone to lick off."

"I wish you'd get to the point already, little girl..."

He was briefly interrupted by the Blossom bot entering into a coughing fit after wolfing down the last of the long cigar in one huge gulp.

Seeing this clone of Blossom be treated so cavalierly did affect Brick as Princess had intended it would; paradoxically filling him with perverse pleasure, but also a feeling akin to grief. All from seeing this girl, whom he above all considered to be his equal, being manipulated like a puppet on strings by some...spoiled little nothing.

"What the hell do you want?" He snapped into a fighting pose. "More importantly, what's in it for us? And if you think me and my boys will league with you for some of daddy's spare change, think twice."

Boomer overheard Brick's speech and nodded his head in agreement, while perched on the lip of the fountain with one hand dipped into the cool waters.

"I can see why your brothers call you the leader."

The heiress of Townsville's leading technology firm lowered her visor and smiled in a way that would have immediately made any passing 'real deal' Powerpuff suspicious.

"Come on and take a seat," she said, slapping the empty spot next to her.

"Give me one good reason or else I'm leaving you, princess."

Princess, smiling politely but fuming within, ordered Blossom bot to slam her head against the steering wheel.

"It's about the Powerpuff Girls."


	5. 4: Be Open

That Friday, Bubbles disobeyed one very basic tenet of the acquired high school survival instincts when she dozed off on the school bus. It was a cold morning, but she was snug enough in her light blue down collared jacket, mittens, and knit 'panda' snow hat, and so deprived of sleep over the past few days that she could not resist.

She awoke in the school parking lot feeling no less worse for wear and only mildly curious about how a wad of gum had become tangled in one of her pigtails. All she cared about now was finding a nice, quiet, gum-free place.

The door to her homeroom classroom was unlocked, so she went in and laid her head on a desk in the back row beside a shelf lined with decaying Math textbooks, and began to drift off...

That is until the rest of Class 2-E started showing up. Unfortunately Kim was among their ranks, and not content to let sleeping Bubbles lie.

"Wakey wakey, Bubbles. Gosh, you look like a big ole balloon today!"

Bubbles showed she was alive with a low grunt and a limp wristed wave, like holding up a white flag of surrender.

"I brought you a present today."

"I hope it's hot cocoa," Bubbles groaned, not even bothering to lift her head from the desk. "I feel terrible."

"Not hot cocoa, but I assure you it _is_ quite hot!"

It wasn't just the foggy weather that day, which at least four other students in just her class would use as an excuse to stay home. She might have too, but figured Blossom had enough to worry about lately what with Buttercup's whereabouts still a mystery, and whoever it was that trashed their living room still at large.

"What bothers me the most is that the alarm didn't go off at all," Blossom had considered aloud as Bubbles served her portion of sloppy, gooey pancakes and overcooked sausages earlier that morning. "Some guys are coming by at around four to check on the system, but I have tennis club later so if anybody knocks..."

Bubbles set her fork down on her plate mid-sausage.

"What about Buttercup?"

Blossom's expression sank.

"Nobody's seen her since Monday, or Mitch for that matter. That news segment got a few people calling in with tips, but nothing major's come of them so far."

Blossom sighed.

As loathe as she was to admit the truth of the matter, she couldn't bring herself to lie either.

Bubbles hadn't given up hope yet, though.

"Maybe...they ran away with each other. Buttercup always talked about leaving Townsville one day, so maybe..."

"With that scumbag Mitch?"

Blossom grimaced as if the mere thought of anyone with the name Mitch was a cause of disgust.

"Hah! At least she'd be safe with him, I guess. At this point all we can do is hope she turns up somewhere...or decides to come home."

In other words, all they could do was wait, and for Bubbles that meant days of endless worry.

"Excuse me but...you are Bubbles, right?"

Bubbles looked up, and met the misty blue eyes of a blonde male dressed in the French Peak uniform, but at first glance it was easy to tell he was on a whole different level than the other French High boys.

"Oh I...don't believe we've met..."

Her stomach rumbled - either because she skimped on breakfast, or because this random hot guy was standing so close that she could taste his strawberry and honey aroma with each breath. Most likely the latter.

"How do you know my name?"

The boy smiled, showing off his rows of sparkly white teeth. "Your friend told me."

Bubbles saw Kim giggling over his shoulder and as the boy got down on one knee, shot her a terrified look.

"I am Boomer. Prince Boomer. If I may be so bold, please call me your Boomer. I have sworn to serve and protect you, my sweet princess! Your every word is my command."

He took her hand and kissed it, to the delight of Bubbles's classmates who had no idea what was going on except that it involved the new transfer student creepily touching the quiet girl on his first day.

"Huh?" Bubbles blinked.

The fairy tale moment crumbled. In an instant she went from being completely enamored by the uncommon charm and grace of prince Boomer, to being utterly aghast at the realization that fresh saliva from the mouth of someone who, as a kid, would 'eat anything for five dollars', was glistening on the back of her hand.

"You're Boomer!? Ack! Oh God!"

* * *

><p>As an honor roll student council representative taking the maximum amount of extracurricular classes, Blossom was allowed a lot of unique privileges.<p>

For example, she could skip homeroom if she would rather devote that time to practicing her Mandarin Chinese, or researching an Advanced Physics at the library, or even just to work on her swing.

Blossom's racket whistled as it sliced through thin air, marking the second time she missed a ball while playing against the dummy wall on the tennis court that morning.

_Unacceptable_, she thought, but it couldn't be helped.

In the days since Buttercup's disappearance, every now and then she would fall into these 'guilt spells', during which all she could think about was different measures she could have taken to prevent all that had happened from happening. A fruitless endeavor to be sure, because what it would all inevitably boil down to was a big 'SHIT HAPPENS', and her feeling depressed again.

For one, that rotten Mitch has been a bad influence on her...you can smell it across the whole house whenever she's been out smoking with him...and they've probably had sex dozens of times...

Blossom felt the blood rush to her face.

"Damn it," she said under her breath, trying to shake the mental image of Mitch Mitchelson naked and thrusting.

The tennis ball she missed kept rolling until it hit the fence where students would sometimes line up to watch matches, but the boy standing there was decidedly not native to French Peak.

"Yo," he said, clinging to the chain link fence with one hand. "It's been a while, huh?"

Blossom recognized him immediately.

"Five years, and you're still wearing leather," she said, looking him over disapprovingly. "What are you doing here? Other than admiring the student body, of course."

"That's not it, I swear," he said with a grin. "Besides, there's only one body I'm interested in."

Brick stopped and pondered her for a while, not hiding the fact that he liked every inch of what he saw with a series of hums, as if she were the last redhead with nice curves alive on Earth. Equal parts pretty and smart, but one hard hell of a catch.

"Gawk all you want, but in case you were thinking of following me to class, I have campus security on speed dial."

"Is this your new look? Don't think I've ever seen you in a miniskirt before." He brushed the side of his nose with his thumb. "Does daddy let you leave the house with all that leg showing, or is little goody two-shoes Blossom a bad girl now? Mmm..."

"These are my tennis clothes, you pig," she hissed at him, then suddenly grew quiet.

"What's the matter?"

Brick could tell something was wrong by the way she crossed arms - as if she was hugging herself - and the way her eyes narrowed as she looked off into the distant nothing clouded by the thickening fog.

"The professor's dead," she let out softly. "It was radiation poisoning...from working with Chemical-X for so long."

"Aw man." Brick lowered his head, gripping the tongue of his hat between two fingers. "Boy do I feel like shit now."

"Oh...it's okay...you didn't know."

"Still..." He scratched the back of his head trying to think of what to say to get the ball rolling again, but talk of dead parents marks a fairly definitive end to any flirty conversation.

An awkward silence set in between them, broken only by the bell for first period sounding in the distance.

Blossom packed away her things and looked at Brick, who was just standing there with his hands in his pockets staring at her expectantly.

"I'm always here at the same time Monday, Wednesday and Friday. But don't go all stalker on me, or-"

"Yeah, yeah, you'll call the campus security, or the police, or the military will bring in a fucking tank and I'll just fly away." He brushed his nose again. "Next time, do me a favor and pretend I'm not here. I wanna see you shake your ass a little."

"Maybe in your dreams!"

Blossom was laughing and playing along on the outside, but it was all a ploy. Whatever Brick's real motives were, there was no doubt in her mind that he was still the same coldhearted, manipulative, womanizing degenerate as before...so she would have to keep a close eye on him.

During all this, Butch was consorting with a talking dog in the parking lot of what was once a Burger King, turned a crack den.


End file.
